


Winers and Loafers

by k_rose_m (Flipkat)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen, Religion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-11
Updated: 2012-11-10
Packaged: 2017-11-18 09:48:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/559637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flipkat/pseuds/k_rose_m
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some straight-up Biblical miracles, Signless-style.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>From the prompt here, for "Jesus-powers = Shooshpaps:" http://homesmut.livejournal.com/11448.html?thread=18939576#t18939576<br/>inspired by the art here: http://27.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lsgeee7oj81qj70bdo1_500.jpg</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Winers

There was this one time they'd all been invited to an old friend's "Finally Found My Matesprit" banquet - the idea being that, once they'd found someone, they could splurge everything left they'd set aside towards finding them on one big party - and they were just sorta chilling in the courtyard, chatting where it was quieter, you know, and the Dolorosa came up to them.  
"I heard they've just run out of wine."  
The Signless glowered at her, kinda annoyed. "So?"  
She gave him The Look. He blanched.  
"Fine! FINE, where's the head wine guy? Tell him to have someone refill the empty barrels with water."

There were six of them; they were set against the wall in the courtyard and he approached first with an air of determination.  
"Shoosh, shoosh," he began, patting both the side of the barrel and the surface of the liquid.   
The Disciple and the Ψiioniic exchanged a puzzled glance.   
"Uhh..." the Ψiioniic started to say.  
He shot them a glare, then returned his attention to his work, shooshpapping each barrel in turn, before sending for the servant again. 

Upon tasting the barrel's contents, the steward remarked "Man! We shoulda had you do this BEFORE the party! They're all half-drunk by now anyway; nobody'll appreciate the good stuff anymore."  
The Signless' eye twitched. The Ψiioniic muttered something about giving up alcohol for good. The group left early, and was treated to grumbling all the way home.


	2. Loafers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It continues!

_“Why are you doing this?”_

The Signless looked pointedly down at the small pile of bread in front of him, then over at the crowd of thousands sitting a short ways off, then back at the bread, and finally up at the Ψiioniic. “Because…it’s faster this way?”  
The Ψiioniic facepalmed. Dammit, he was being deliberately obtuse again. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”  
A sheepish grin, and the Signless began rubbing the back of his head embarrassedly. “Well, they came all the way out here just to hear me talk, ‘cause I can really only give speeches when there’s no one and nothing _important_ nearby, or they’d all be in danger, so it’s not like I can send them back into town to eat, there’s not enough time for them to get there and back before sunrise…”  
“They FOLLOWED YOU OUT HERE! We were TRYING TO LEAVE!!”  
“Right! They followed _me_ , so it’s _my_ responsibility to feed them!”  
“Just BREAD?”  
“Well, it WOULD have been fish sandwiches, if a certain disciple of mine hadn’t decided she needed an early lunch!” He gave an affectionate smirk and a head-pap to the girl who was cowering behind him, trying to hide her embarrassment behind her hands and hair. “Shoosh. All is forgiven.”

Looking back to the bread again, he sighed resignedly. “Might as well get on with it, then.” He picked up the first loaf and began stroking it outwards from the center to the ends with one hand, cradling it with the other, and making soothing noises all the while, as though it were a wriggler he was trying to coax into behaving. “Shoosh, shoosh. Shoooooshhshhshh.”  
After a short time, he seemed satisfied with his work. Tearing the loaf into rough halves, he took a bite from the torn edge of one piece, and threw the other at the Ψiioniic, lightly beaning him on the nose. “Take a bite of that. Then pass both these pieces to the closest bunch and tell ‘em to do the same: take a bite and pass it on.”

First, the Ψiioniic took a bite from his half loaf; he was getting pretty hungry, after all. The rant could wait. By the time he’d swallowed, he’d only been able to come up with a single sardonic comment: “THIS is your WHOLE PLAN? Feed them OUR LUNCH?!?”  
A laugh, and he was beaned on the nose again by the other half loaf. “ARGHH! Fine!” He managed not to stomp angrily as he delivered the bread and instructions to the nearest seated group, returning to find his friend had already torn and bitten the second of the loaves. This time, he managed to duck, catching the thrown pieces with his psionics instead, and tearing off another bite on his way to the handoff. After dealing with the third loaf the same way, he came back to find the Signless staring wistfully down at the last remaining part of their meal.

A loaf of bread, yes, but it was to the other loaves as the moons were to the sun; a beautiful treat, instead of a harsh necessity. The kind of bread by which man alone might LIVE, instead of merely SURVIVING. A bread for the ages, for all peoples, for all colors…The Signless could, and would, go on for ages about the Dolorosa’s spice bread, but even he seemed to realize that this was not the time. The Ψiioniic felt for him, really he did; it had smelled so good baking yesterday, and would be _extra_ delicious today. And now it had to be shared with _a lot more people than they’d originally planned._  
At length, he heaved another sigh, and picked up the loaf almost reverently. After giving it the same treatment as the other loaves, he switched to balancing it on his lap, stroking out from the center with both hands, crooning softly to it, and spending far longer over it than he had the others. The Ψiioniic thought about making a comment, something like “are you going to eat that loaf, or enter a flushed relationship with it?” but decided against it; let the man have his moment with his bread. It wouldn't last.

Indeed, it wasn’t too much longer before the stroking stopped, and the last loaf was firmly torn in two. The Signless hesitated before biting into it; he seemed to be wavering between shoving the whole half in his mouth or just nibbling on the edge. In the end, he took a bite that was, the Ψiioniic was sure, far smaller than he would have liked, and handed off the pieces with downcast eyes. He didn’t even throw them this time, and the mood was subdued as he slowly chewed and swallowed, seeming to savor the taste for as long as possible. When he was done, he raised his face at last, and gave a smile like a light shining through a fog. He hopped up, stretched, and dusted himself off, seeming to shake off his melancholy all the while, and strode out to face the crowd. “Right!”

Then the Signless gave a speech, during which the Ψiioniic attempted to nap in a show of annoyance, except the Disciple kept poking him in the ribs with her claws. He marveled at how, even though she seemed to never remove her rapt gaze from the man standing in front of the crowd, she still managed to jab him just as he started to drift off, every single time.  
When it was over and the crowd was beginning to disperse, seeking shelter from the soon-to-be threatening sun, the Signless made one last announcement. “Friends, please make sure to collect up all those leftover bits of bread on the ground and take them home! We don’t want to leave evidence of a large gathering here, after all!”  
“Oh right,” muttered the Ψiioniic, “like the thousands of footprints leading to and from a _deserted area _won’t tip them off?”  
The Signless grinned at him, and pointed to the horizon. “Don’t worry about the footprints, there’s a dust storm on the way.”  
“Wait, WHAT?”  
Of course they got caught in it, but at least it covered the tracks of their retreat.__

**Author's Note:**

> If we consider this to be the Disciple's version of events, then the Ψiioniic's recounting, if he'd had one, would sound something like this:
> 
> OK so this one time they were all chilling at a party and the Dolorosa comes up and goes They Ran Out Of Wine and he's all GO AWAY I'M ENJOYING MYSELF FOR ONCE but then she's all GRAAGH so he's like OK OK and he goes and shooshpaps these barrels of water and it's like dude, did you even wash your hands? but when the head wine guy tries it he's like oH mAn ThIs Is ThE gOoD sTuFf! YoU wAnNa StIcK aRoUnD aNd MaKe Us SoMe MoRe LaTeR? so it's a good thing he didn't see how it was made, and they all absconded early without saying goodbye and man was the Dolorosa pissed, eheh.
> 
> Because he can't be assed to write anything down when he's depressed.
> 
> (She's annoyed because she's the one who got the invitation. So the REAL story is, they were both grumbling all the way home, like:  
> Honestly I Cannot Beleive How Rude That Was  
> I'M JUST SICK OF PEOPLE TRYING TO TAKE ADVANTAGE OF ME OK  
> But It Was A Party  
> HOW COME I NEVER GET TO RELAX AT PARTIES HUH  
> Which just goes to show why one viewpoint is never enough.) :D


End file.
